


Validation

by hobbeshalftail3469



Category: Cormoran Strike Series - Robert Galbraith
Genre: Cormoran will chop logs!, Eventual smut and fluff, F/M, Robin and Cormoran present at a conference, Robin has a sauna, Staying overnight, a few drinks and a log fire, accomodation upgrade, eve of Robin's Birthday, sharing accomodation in separate rooms, their body language is just a fact!, they'd rather chill together than go to a fancy restaurant, with an axe!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-14
Updated: 2019-03-18
Packaged: 2019-11-18 03:35:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18112460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hobbeshalftail3469/pseuds/hobbeshalftail3469
Summary: The idea behind this is pre relationship, but post divorce, so all set post LW.Robin and Strike are invited to present at a huge conference in South Wales (I am imagining The Celtic Manor Resort for context) They get accommodation in one of the lodges on the site and are so in synch when they are presenting. Both are starting to realise they fancy each other, but think the other is oblivious - yes, I know....possibly our favourite scenario!A Body language expert at the conference points out some indisputable facts to Cormoran, and he goes for it at last, using her birthday as a sort of way in.They will eventually have a lovely, slow, sexy time infront of the log fire in their lodge, and Cormoran of course has a gorgeous gift for her too.There isn't really any plot here....it is just another possible 'they finally get together' idea.





	1. Admiration, amusement and adoration.

It was October 8th, the day before Robin’s 30th Birthday and she was driving herself and her partner up the winding approach to a rather fancy Golf Resort and Conference Centre in south Wales.  
They had been asked to present at a huge event for trainee police officers which Strike had been a little reluctant to do until he’d discovered that they would be accommodated in a rather swanky hotel, all expenses covered….plus he’d been given strict orders by Ilsa to keep Robin occupied so that she didn’t find out about the surprise party she was throwing for her now close friend.  
So, he’d voiced the prospect to Robin, and she’d been enthusiastic, so between them they had put together a presentation about basic surveillance techniques, how to spot avoidance strategies and how to interpret photographic evidence to spot signs of fakery.

They’d left London in Strike’s BMW early and had a coffee/fag and loo stop en route.   
Their presentation spot was between 3pm and 5pm, so they had enough time to check in and catch the earlier presentation, their aim being to join everyone else over lunch.  
Strike had been quite strict about the fact that whilst they would stay overnight, they would require somewhere they could do some work – they had a lot of cases on the go and although Barclay was stepping up to hold the fort, he knew both be and Robin would like to ensure they checked emails; and he was waiting on a response to a request for some CCTV footage which might actually solve another rather well paying client’s issue.  
The venue and organisers had been great though and said they would be easily able to provide accommodation which provided some privacy, great wifi and space.

They pulled into the underground level parking and carried their luggage and various other ‘stuff’ into the lift to reach check in on the ground floor.  
The lower ground floor contained the huge Health Suite, which had a number of people buzzing around in robes, plus that slightly odd smell of scented oils, heated wax and chlorine.  
“Shame I didn’t bring my cossie!” Robin smirked as the doors slid closed and they were whisked up a floor.  
Strike tried not to think about Robin in a swim suit, but images of Ursula Andress emerging from the sea in James Bond films popped into his head and he had to rub his knuckles against a raised metal seam on the grab rail to bring him back.

His thoughts had often started to drift when it came to his work colleague.   
She was beautiful; both inside and out; and he had discovered that he loved spending time with her….loved it….not just put up with or endured, but actively looked forward to seeing her face each day, to hearing what she’d been doing, to giving her a reason to flash him that killer smile of hers.

Ilsa had supported her through her divorce to Matthew, and it had been final for a month or so….to his knowledge she hadn’t been dating anyone, or even looking.   
He hadn’t slept with anyone for about six months, and he hadn’t had a relationship for even longer….and he had realised why.   
The reason was now adeptly dragging her small case and lugging a laptop bag and her coat across the impressive foyer towards the check-in desks, her rose-gold hair falling like a sheet across her shoulders.

It was a massive hotel complex.   
Looking up they could see floor after floor of rooms via an internal, open central space, and there were clear signs for delegates of the conference they would present at.  
Cormoran approached the desk and gave their names:  
“Ah yes, Mr Strike and Miss Ellacott. We have your specific requirements here. Oh I see you have already brought your luggage…..we’ll take care of that,” and the smart young woman whose name badge stated she was called Hannah called over a porter and trolley. She gave whispered instructions to the young, dark skinned man before he piled their luggage up and disappeared off with it.  
Robin flashed Cormoran an impressed eyebrow raise, and he pulled an amused expression back.  
“Dylan will take your luggage across, have you a vehicle?” Robin nodded and waggled the keys. “Great, we’ve given you one of the lodges, they are nice and spacious, bit more private and have good internet access, so you should be able to work from there once your part of the conference is done. They are a short drive away, but if you’d prefer we have resort vehicles that can take you?” Hannah regarded them for a response.  
Robin responded for them, “Drive is fine as long as there is parking there?”   
Hannah explained that yes, each lodge had several parking spaces.   
She also explained that usually they had a hot tub, but that it took several hours to fill and heat…..and given that they were only booked in for the one night this had not been arranged, but could be if they desired.  
Cormoran’s eyes widened further at the thought of sharing a private hot tub with Robin…….he certainly wouldn’t be able to get out of it first!  
Robin sniggered slightly as she replied, “I don’t really think we’ll have time for a hot tub….might as well save everyone the effort!”

Hannah used a small resort plan to highlight the route they should take to reach their lodge and issued 2 key cards to them, taking Cormoran’s scrawled signature on the paperwork.  
She explained that the conference was running to time and that they would break for lunch at 12.30 as planned, and that would continue until 1.45pm. She wished them a pleasant stay and watched as they went back to the same lifts they had used earlier.

The instructions were very clear, and the resort well sign posted, so they pulled up in front of a rather impressive wooden lodge within 5 minutes.

“Bloody hell? This can’t be just for us!” Robin exclaimed.  
Cormoran took a deep inhalation and merely said, “Wow!”

They recognised Dylan who was ferrying their luggage into the building, clearly having got there a few minutes before them, and they went inside after him.  
He explained in a deep Welsh accent, which sounded both delightful and odd coming from such a dark skinned, dark haired man; “There are 4 double bedrooms, one is on the ground floor, and they’ve all got ensuite bathrooms. Kitchen, wifi password, map…oh and I’ve switched the sauna on if you want to use it, it’s upstairs at the back, pretty straightforward just read the medical sheet beforehand. If you want anything like room service there’s a folder over there – you can have any food from any of the hotels brought here if you want to work and eat. OK?”  
Cormoran answered as Robin was wandering around in shocked and stunned silence, “That’s really helpful Dylan, thank you,” and the efficient man left, closing the door behind him. 

“Well, bugger me!” Strike exclaimed, dragging his hand across his permanently bristled chin.  
Robin met his slightly awestruck gaze, “This can’t be right? For just us?….for one night? It’s bloody huge!”  
He nodded, “I know, might have to stick a bell round your neck to keep track of where you are!” he smiled and wandered through the large, open plan living space…a wood burning fire, dining area, comfy sofas, full kitchen with a half decent coffee pod machine…and he spotted what he guessed would be his room further back on the ground floor.

Robin had followed him and went through to the bedroom, it was huge with an enormous double bed, the ensuite contained a large shower with a tastefully shaped seating area as well as a massive roll top bath.  
“Well I’m guessing this is you…..unless you want to see what the upstairs has to offer?!” she giggled.  
“It’s probably got a fuckin’ lift somewhere!” Strike grinned, sauntering after her as she excitedly trotted up the staircase.

Robin had ducked her head into 2 of the upstairs rooms when he joined her. Each of the 2 rooms were large, one with twin beds, another with a large double and lovely views of secluded golf courses and wooded areas.   
The sauna was easy to spot – an indoors sauna…..for fuck’s sake!?

“I can’t believe I’m staying in a hotel room with my own, private sauna!” Robin laughed.  
“What do you mean yours? Am I not allowed?” Cormoran quipped, playfully.  
“Course you are! Alright….OUR own private sauna! Oh God….I’m having this one!” Robin’s statement coincided with her reaching the final of the upstairs bedrooms, a massive room featuring an enormous bed like the downstairs room, but this one featured wooden posts at each corner.   
It had an elegant chaise longue in front of the floor to ceiling window and was decorated in shades of grey, taupe and plum.  
The ensuite bathroom featured a huge bath, positioned directly in front of another secluded window and also had a shower and twin vanity sinks.

“This is actually bigger than my flat!” Strike mused.  
“The bath's bigger than your bloody flat!” Robin giggled and flopped backwards onto the bed, sighing deeply at the softness of the downy duvet.  
“Right…if you’ve decided we’d better get stuff sorted out and then get into work mode….OK? Serious faces…..delivering seriously useful guidance to people who need to know it!” Strike stated, using his hands to signify his seriousness.  
Robin scrambled up and followed him to collect her bag and other bits and pieces and efficiently unpacked, had a wash and changed into a pair of black slim fitting trousers, kitten heels and a peachy coloured pussy-bow blouse.

When she went back down into the living area she noticed that Strike had set up their laptops at one of the seating areas, and her phone was also on charge for her.  
She could hear Cormoran shifting around in his downstairs room and she used the time waiting to run through the part of the presentation which was specifically ‘hers’. She was going to lead on the section about avoidance strategies – they had lots of images and clips showing how clients attempted to put them off their trails and Robin had noted down key points for each one.

She’d enjoyed working with Strike on the presentation, and she was really quite excited about this new venture – their skills were being appreciated and utilised and it was nice to have some external validation.

Strike emerged wearing a pale blue linen shirt; he was still fiddling with the cuff buttons, the top 2 buttons at the neck left unfastened, showing a few flashes of dark chest hair  
“You all set?” he asked, gathering his dark grey jacket and patting the pockets to check for cigarettes, matches and phone once he'd slid his broad shoulders nto the sleeves.  
“I think so…..did we decide we would take our laptop across just in case?” she queried.  
Strike nodded, “Yeah, I sent them over our presentations, so hopefully they’ll be all ready to go, but better safe than sorry, eh?” and he reached for his computer bag while Robin unfastened the plugs and adaptors.  
“I took the liberty of asking for a resort vehicle to collect us….just in case we fancy a celebratory drink…..or in case you need one for Dutch Courage!” he grinned, waggling his eyebrows at Robin’s expression of mock outrage.  
“How very dare you! I agreed to this….and I am very nearly a confident, independent woman in her thirties….so I take this kind of shit in my stride!” and she flipped her hair back as she grabbed her own tailored jacket and followed her partner.  
“Never doubted it!” he murmured, regarding her with a mixture of admiration, amusement....and a hefty slug of adoration.


	2. Consciously or not, your bodies are speaking to each other!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Strike and Robin give their presentation, following the body language expert.  
> Strike gets told in no uncertain terms that Robin fancies him.....although not by Robin herself.

“Shit!” she hissed as they reached the conference venue.   
Although everyone was clearly involved in getting their lunch out in the adjacent restaurant the room they would be presenting to was way bigger than Robin had imagined.  
“Want that drink now?” Strike grinned, although even he was slightly alarmed at the size of their audience.  
“Are you sure they all want to hear what we’ve got to say?” she whispered as they familiarised themselves with the dais, technology and sound system with the help of an event manager called Darius – he was a colleague of Wardle, who was the person who had recommended them for the event.  
Strike turned and looked directly at Robin – he could see that she was slightly wary, but she didn’t appear to be having any kind of panic attack, thankfully.   
She looked the ‘right amount’ of nervous in his opinion.

“Look, they’ve seen what we’re planning to say, and the organisers seem to think it’s great…..it’s just us telling a room full of other people what we know and what we do every day, OK?” and he gently grasped her upper arms, staring into her stormy-grey eyes.  
She returned his gaze and bit her lip slightly, “Yeah….we’re a team! We can do this!”  
He smiled his crinkle eyed smile at her use of the term ‘we’…..not for the first time he considered what a lucky bastard he was to have forgotten to cancel a temp!

“Good! Right, I’m starving!” he stated.  
“What’s new?!” Robin quipped, but followed him out into the adjoining rooms where the sound of clinking cutlery and voices became louder.

They had been given fairly large name badges, Robin was planning on keeping hers, Robin Ellacott ‘Specialised Guest Presenter’ was emblazoned on it….it gave her a little thrill of excitement.  
Strike on the other hand was getting much a similar sensation from the sight of the buffet lunch!

Robin grabbed a couple of seats at a vacant table and busied herself checking her phone as she waited for Strike to return with his food; his needs outweighed her own! She watched as he rather amusingly became the target of several females' attention.   
One rather blatantly squeezed in front of him at the buffet table, trying vainly to engage him in some conversation, adopting what Robin could see was a ‘I’m up for anything’ expression. She sniggered slightly when Strike virtually ignored her, showing far more interest in lasagne and chips!

He wandered over to her at the table, earning a rather ridiculous number of swivelling heads; mainly from women.  
Robin sniggered, “What?” he asked, pausing only momentarily before tucking into his food with the usual gusto.  
“Nothing! Just wondering whether the lodge is actually big enough to cope with the size your head might be after this!” and she started the get up to get something to eat herself.  
“What’d’ya mean?” he asked through a mouthful of chips.  
She shook her head and pursed her mouth….God did she know what that action did to him?...............”Just seem to be quite a lot of hero worshippers in the room!” she grinned.  
Strike shrugged and continued attacking his lunch, but sat back to take a sip from a glass of water and watched casually as Robin made her way across to the food.   
It was fascinating to watch…..men tried to avoid looking at her….he could see them trying….and he knew exactly what that feeling was like – he had to do it multiple times each day!   
One fair haired guy sidled up as she was fishing through a bowl of salad (she’ll be picking out all the onion, thought Strike!)   
He watched as she turned her open face towards him and answered whatever it was he’d opened with.   
She gave him a polite smile, but rather happily not the same ‘million dollar one’ she gave him he thought smugly.   
She moved on, the guy’s eyes following her smart, attractive figure as she added several more things to her plate before looking around for cutlery.   
She directed her query towards a rather geeky looking man and Strike saw the flashes of disappointment and envy on the faces of the others in his ‘group’ as he guided Robin to where the forks and napkins where located, personally.  
‘Geek’ then followed her with adoring eyes as she made her way back to the table. 

“You chatting up the attendees and hoping to get lucky?” Cormoran grinned waggling his eyebrows lasciviously as she sat next to him.  
“I was asking for a fork…..and before you make any rude comment yes, I am aware of the rude innuendo!” and she poked him in the shoulder with the said item of cutlery before she stabbed into her salad.

They ate in companiable ease, chatting and talking about a couple of issues with current cases and answering each other’s queries about the presentation.  
Strike popped out for a cigarette as Robin went to get them coffees and she realised that she was receiving quite a bit of attention from some of the police recruits…..she mused on the thought that whilst she wasn’t quite old enough to be their mothers, she wasn’t that far off!   
It was rather nice though having so much attention – she sort of hated herself for feeling that way and mentally chastised herself for being a ‘bad feminist’…..but it was nice to feel wanted and attractive after the whole Matthew shit.

She spotted Strike outside with the fellow smokers, his dark features, slightly shambolic clothing, hair, face and age had not instantly been attractive to her….but he’d had something, even back then when he’d almost knocked her down the staircase in Denmark Street.  
And now….well….it had been quite a while now since she’d realised that she fancied him; plain and simple.   
She day dreamed about him; his hands and the way they caressed his cigarettes; his mouth and the way it curled into a slightly off-centred pout; his eyes and the way they seemed always to be trying to see something in her.   
In short she thought about him a lot.  
She hadn’t dated since Matthew; hadn’t wanted to.   
She had wanted a bit of a break from men, but actually she had recently realised that she was now ready….but the man she wanted didn’t look at her in that way.   
She hadn’t yet confided in anyone about her feelings; she was keeping things under control, just about, but now, being here out of the office with him….overnight…..it was seriously knocking her equilibrium off balance.  
At least there was a set of stairs and a couple of doors between their sleeping arrangements later!

The room started filling up with attendees and Strike ambled through the various tables towards their ‘Presenters’ reserved seats.   
He was sucking on a mint and chucked a handful more on the table from his pocket.  
“What we got before us?” he asked as he saw Robin glancing through the itinerary for the day.  
“Some guy who is a leading expert on body language….looks quite interesting actually,” she remarked and Strike’s own interest was piqued enough for him to put his phone onto silent and place it face down on the table rather than face up to see incoming messages.

The body language man, called Dr Trae Phillips was actually really interesting; and given that he had the ‘death spot’ of after lunch, when everyone was struggling with a post-carbohydrate slump, he managed to keep the room active and interested.

Robin was fascinated by a lot of what he said and found herself thinking about her own interactions…..especially with Strike.   
One of his slides had given a range of statements, and she’d found herself almost nodding as she thought about each one and agreeing with it.   
She’d hastily cleared her throat and took a sip of water when he’d announced that all of the criteria were key indicators of being in love with someone.  
Right!   
Validation as if it where needed that she fancied the arse off the man she was sat next to and sharing a secluded lodge with this evening…..who saw her as capable, professional Robin!

Strike had listened to Dr Phillips’ presentation with interest.   
He couldn’t help but consider how his own body was currently positioned.   
He noticed for example that he was tilted towards Robin – but that was just because of the seats and being able to see the main stage he told himself.   
He also noticed that he seemed to shift his hands whenever Robin moved hers, and that he positioned the handle of the water jug in such a way that he’d have to reach slightly across her to pick it up again…..shit!  
Was he giving away how he felt?   
He didn’t want to……gorgeous, young, healthy Robin would not want anything from him except friendship and a work relationship…..so he had to stop it all….even though he’d listened to a list of statements, mentally ticked each one off and almost sobbed when the presenter had explained these were key indicators of being in love.

Fuck!

Anyway, the room was breaking into applause, there would be a short break for the loo and then they were up!

He noticed Robin give a deep breath and clench her fists a few times before she gathered some notes. “Shall we?” she muttered, giving him a very brief look of anxious excitement.  
He merely winked and nodded as he followed her up onto the raised platform and started to assemble their presentation folders on the interactive screen.

At 3pm they were introduced and for the next two hours they worked seamlessly side by side to deliver what turned out to be a fascinating and enthralling presentation on aspects of their everyday job.  
They bounced the details and questions asked between them, Cormoran often passing something to Robin with a , “That’s probably your area of expertise,” and Robin reciprocating with him, “Do you want to expand a bit more on that?”  
They had a great chemistry and it was clear that they knew their stuff, and the audience seemed really interested, so much so that they over ran on questions at the end and the presenter had to eventually intervene with a promise to gather any unanswered questions and pass them on.

Once at the table they grinned, Robin doing a sort of self-conscious mini dance, “We rocked!” she whispered, very close to Strike’s ear.  
“We did bloody good!” he nodded, “Do you need a pee?” he asked as she continued to wiggle from side to side next to him.  
“What? No, just excited! That was a real buzz!” she laughed, trying to cover her beaming smile so as not to appear too smug and obnoxious. “Actually, I do need a wee….won’t be a minute. Are you OK sorting this stuff?”  
Strike grinned and nodded, waving her off, noticing that she now received even more attention as she squeezed her way to the toilets…..but this time a lot more of the people reaching out and speaking as she passed were women.

“So, you and her make a fabulous team….always nice when professional and personal relationships work so well,” the voice of Trae Phillips cut through his momentary daydream.  
“Pardon?” Strike asked.  
“You and Miss Ellacott,” stated the body language expert.  
“Oh, no…..we’re not personally involved. Robin is excellent at her job and we work very well together, but….nothing….you know,” he explained, feeling a blush forming on his cheeks and tossing out a couple of ‘Cheers!’ and ‘Thanks very much’ comments to attendees who came across to offer instant feedback.  
Trae Phillips however raised his eyes and shook his head, “I hate to tell you this, but your bodies really don’t agree with that!” and he smiled at Strike’s look of confusion. “I’m an expert!”

Cormoran regarded the man as he paused collecting papers and notes, “She…..she doesn’t think of me in that way……much as I might like that to be different!” he admitted, bashfully, “I can see how MY body language might be giving off telltale signs…I thought that myself during your presentation….lots of what you said rang true….need to work on that!” and he raised his eyebrows in a resigned fashion.  
But Trae tutted lightly and shook his head, “I wouldn’t! It isn’t one sided….consciously or not your bodies speak to each other….you’re connected on some deep level already and she is saying exactly the same things that you are saying……it’s a fact. You just aren’t saying them outloud!” he finished.   
He had completed gathering his own belongings and was making to leave, “It was really interesting listening to what you both had to say, maybe we could talk further this evening….might be interesting to see what I can pick up from that section of avoidance ….I could probably give you some good research papers worth a read, I’ve got your email details.”  
“Er….yeah….erm, OK. Look, are you sure?” Strike asked, glancing quickly across as he spotted Robin’s honey-gold hair on the other side of the room beginning to make her way across to him.  
“I’m one of the world’s leading experts in body language, I am one of the most highly regarded specialists in my field, I’ve published a significant number of papers which are used in everyday protocols and policies around the globe….. so trust me….she wants to jump your bones as much as you want to jump hers!” and he flashed Strike a rueful smirk before he turned to make his way off, passing Robin and giving her a brief handshake and greeting as he passed.

Fuck!

“Well, I reckon a well earned drink is in order!” Robin stated as she reached his side, peering up at him with twinkling eyes. “And having chanced my arm visiting the loo I don’t fancy tackling the bar on my own…..apparently quite a few of these recruits have a thing about older women!”  
Strike dragged his eyes away from hers and inhaled sharply, “Then permit me to be your bodyguard….I have a feeling quite a few of them will start trying out those Dr Phillips tricks!” and he instantly nudged her as a guy passed, showing a clear ‘open and ready for it’ stance, head tilted on one side to show submission, “See!” he hissed, taking the opportunity of inhaling her soft perfume close to her ear.

Robin turned the sob caused by his warm breath on her neck into an amused snort and gave him a playful poke on the shoulder, instantly thinking back to the presentation to try to think whether that gave a signal to Strike or not….and if so which signal was it?  
Strike grinned, mentally recalling the words of Dr Phillips, “taking any opportunity to engage in physical contact, often disguised as banter or fun.”   
Yeah…..I might be in here after all!


	3. Let's see what happens.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of the presentation. Robin and Strike go back to their lodge - Robin uses the sauna, Cormoran chops some logs....both have a think about what to do next!

Strike ordered their usual drinks at the bar while Robin found a couple of seats.  
“So are we expected to come back and do this whole networking thing this evening?” Robin asked after taking a gulp from her white wine.  
Strike placed the pint which he’d taken a large swig from down on the table between them, “We don’t actually have to….it isn’t in our agreement. All we had to do was the 2 hour thing, so basically we can do what we want now. The room, or should I say lodge, is paid for, so is breakfast, so is an evening meal…..basically everything charged to the room is covered. What are you thinking, Ellacott?” he asked pointedly, sipping on his pint again.  
Robin sipped her wine, “Well, considering the fact that everyone is staring at us already, I reckon we’ll be bombarded with questions and crap all evening if we come back here. Could we just stay at the lodge instead – I fancy a sauna too!”

Cormoran cleared his throat at the thought of Robin in a sauna wrapped in a towel…..he’d planned for them to come and have a meal in one of the decent restaurants in the main hotel – there was a really good one that was quite exclusive and he’d already asked whether they would be able to accommodate them and create something special for Robin’s birthday ‘eve’.

“You know what, yeah….let’s sod it and leave this lot to it!” he drained his pint, “I’m off for a pee.”  
By the time he returned Robin had almost finished her wine and had been joined by two of the young, male course attendees.  
He lurked within her eyeline, enjoying her furtive glances in his direction as she tried to appear interested in her companions’ conversation and attention.   
Strike could have carried on pretending to not quite understand and leave her to the attentions of the chaps who were clearly trying it on, but he noticed that she’d now drained her glass and had flashed him her ‘look’ – the ‘I’m warning you, stop dicking about’ look, she could pull it out whenever required….usually when he and Nick were in fact dicking about!  
He wandered across with his phone in hand, “I’m really sorry Robin, but that email has come through about the CCTV, we should go and look at it,” and he clucked his cheek in that ‘sorry, but she's coming with me’ fashion at the two guys.

 

They exited the main conference building and located the resort vehicles which would transport them back to their lodge.  
“I am so buzzing about that presentation we did!” Robin said as they trundled along in the electric vehicle. “I mean, I know we get job satisfaction when we solve a case and everything, but this was really different; it sort of felt like personal validation that what we do matters. Do you know what I mean?”  
Strike nodded thoughtfully.   
He knew exactly what she meant, and it was so perfect that her thoughts were following exactly the same path as his own on the topic. 

“I don’t think I’d like to make a weekly habit of it, like that Dr Phillips guy does……feel like I want to get back to our proper work now, not write a paper and publish it!” he explained, glancing across at Robin’s twinkling eyes and satisfied face.  
“Oh heavens yeah………..what he said was…..interesting though……he seems to be very qualified,” she commented, unconsciously fidgeting with her jacket and bag strap and noticing that Cormoran was twisting one of the wrappers off a mint he’d discovered in his jacket pocket and was sucking on.  
“Hmmm, yeah…..he had quite a lot of interesting things to say…..makes you second guess every movement you make though, right?” he stated, glancing over and meeting Robin’s gaze, offering her one of the sweeties he’d pocketed.

She smiled and accepted it, popping the mint from it’s wrapper and sucking on it as they made their way to their sanctuary.

“Can we really just stay here tonight instead of going back over there,” she indicated with a flick of her head towards the main building as they drew up at their lodge.  
Strike nodded, crunching the dregs of his mint and lighting up a cigarette as she located her keycard, “Well, I was planning on treating you to a slap up meal…..given that it is the final day of your twenties…..and given that I won’t have to actually pay for said slap up meal,” he flashed her one of his crinkle eyed grins.  
Robin’s shoulders slumped slightly, “Oh, that’s really sweet……we can if you want…..that would be a pretty special way to spend the last day of being a twenty something,” she said….and on reflection, yes, it would be really nice to have a lovely meal all dressed up with Strike!

“No……you go and crank up that sauna and let me see what I can do while you melt yourself!” he quipped, taking out his phone as he perched on one of the wooden Adirondack style chairs in front of their lodge.

Robin went inside and ran up to the sauna and dutifully read through the health and safety details as she stripped off and removed her make up.   
She hadn’t actually brought a swim suit, but she worked on the assumption that the towels in her bathroom were enormous and basically covered her from shoulder to knee.   
There were more towels beside the sauna itself, so she swirled her hair into a turban using one and set the timer for 30 minutes before tiptoeing inside the deliciously hot room.  
She climbed up onto the upper ‘shelf’ and settled down before having the mental realisation shared by everyone who goes into a sauna alone……what does one do in a sauna by yourself?

She mulled over this idea for a short while, then allowed her thoughts to meander through various concepts – work, cases, stuff she needed to do in her flat, what she was going to get for Strike for his birthday, Strike……Strike being downstairs right now….what if Strike came up and joined her in the sauna?......what if her towel slipped?.....what if his did?........what the hell did any of this say in relation to the stuff Dr Phillips had shared?......how much should she safely decide to drink this evening given that she needed to sleep under the same roof as him?

The timer sounded and she realised, as all sauna users eventually do, that it doesn’t matter what you do in a sauna….the time still passes way more quickly than expected!

She emerged into the relative cool of the upstairs lodge and heard thumping noises from outside.  
She ensured she was sufficiently covered and glanced out to see Strike, who had changed into a pair of jeans and a navy t shirt, his discarded red half-zip sweater on the floor beside him.   
He was in the process of swinging an axe down onto a large log, which cleaved in two. He picked up each smaller log and added them to several others.

She watched, transfixed as he sniffed, swiped the back of his forearm across his face and picked up another large piece of wood to tackle.  
His shoulders looked incredibly wide, his biceps bulging under his skin and a delicious ripple of muscle visible as he swung the axe up and around rather expertly  
Lordy!   
She’d thought the sauna was hot!

He sliced his way through the next log and placed the smaller sections on the pile before collecting several into his arms and starting to make his way inside; she heard his muffled, uneven gait on the wooden floor.

Puffing out her cheeks she went to her bedroom and spotted a yellow sticky note attached to the door with his familiar scrawl telling her to ‘Dress for comfort. Food being delivered.’

 

Cormoran had used the physical activity of hacking his way through large pieces of wood with a medieval weapon as an opportunity to reflect on his new found insight and knowledge.   
He had spent too long apparently believing that his feeling towards Robin were one sided and not reciprocated…  
...But, the thorny issue remained that what if she was unaware of what her body language was saying?   
And what is she didn’t like what it was saying and fancied arguing with herself?!

He had already arranged for the same food they would have ordered from the exclusive restaurant to be delivered to their lodge….and yes, he’d smiled as he glanced down the menu choices and instantly known what Robin would select for each of the 4 courses!

As he transferred some of the cut up logs into the basket beside the fireplace he considered his options.

Either he could do and say nothing, in which case he could spend a thoroughly pleasant evening in the company of a woman that he adored, who would make him smile….and leave him with a raging erection that he could deal with in the privacy of his rather magnificent bed….or maybe even the shower…… OR, he could say something.   
The possibilities arising from that option were too traumatic to consider….but he did anyway as he made his way back to collect the rest of his log pile.  
She might push him away; she might cause a massive scene, meaning they’d have to drive back to London tomorrow, on her birthday, in tense silence….and he’d have to explain that away during what would be the most monumentally awkward surprise birthday party in history.   
They’d then have to work together, every day, knowing that he’d been rejected by her….which she’d no doubt tell Ilsa….who’d tell Nick….which would mean his two best friends would flash him looks of pity and embarrassment whenever they saw him….basically it could be the most massive of fuck ups! 

The alternative was that she didn’t push him away….and the thoughts of what might happen after that….well, he daren’t imagine that….not unless he was in private....and certainly not with an axe in his hand!

“Stack your logs you ridiculous twat!” he muttered to himself.

 

Robin cooled off in a blissful shower and continued to think about what Dr Phillips had been talking about in his presentation earlier as she massaged suds through her hair.   
Oh God!   
She was horny and hideously attracted to Cormoran….and if she did anything about it the chances were he’d laugh in her face and tell her to get a grip on herself!   
They worked together…..that was it.

She dried off, slathered on a generous dollop of her scented body cream and blow dried her hair.   
Her skin was tinged with rosy pink from the sauna, but she looked fresh and naturally attractive.   
She considered her reflection in the large mirror. She wasn’t bad looking…..she was slim(ish), she had curves in the right places, and her boobs were still firm and perky……maybe she should have insisted on them going out for the slap up meal rather than staying in!   
She had brought a decent dress with her and some nice undies to go beneath it….she could hardly wear that now that she had instructions to dress for comfort!  
Sod it!   
It was the eve of her birthday….the final day of her twenties, so she opted for the posh undies beneath her marl grey lounge pants and a pale blue, cowl neck, slouchy sweater. She kept her feet bare and add just a slather of foundation, lipstick and a whisk of mascara. She ended with a spritz of her favourite scent and felt quite pleased with her reflection.

Cormoran had set the fire ready to light before disappearing into his room to get rid of the mud, sweat and splinters of wood which had settled across his skin during his woodcutting escapade.  
He undressed and set the shower running before removing his prosthesis at the thoughtfully positioned chair in the large bathroom and hopped under the deluge of hot water.   
A seated shower cubicle, especially one of this size, was an absolute treat – he viewed it in the same manner that Robin had viewed the sauna – and he luxuriated in being able to relax for once rather than be on edge with the possibility of slipping or losing his balance in the wet.

He stayed under the powerful spray for a decadent amount of time and considered what he could do later on.  
He had arranged for a lovely meal, it would be just the two of them, and he’d got her a rather special gift hidden in his holdall….shit he’d even wrapped it up, although that was mainly inspired by the fact that it was a flat, easy shape!

He decided: he’d keep her wine topped up and turn the lights down and see what happened!


	4. Perfect.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A meal in the lodge makes sparks fly between Robin and Strike.  
> The body language expert might have had a point after all.....  
> There is a little homage to Ray and Neela from ER too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for posting late, but I was trying to get to the 'smut'....I hoped to have written more today, but life got in the way!  
> The image of Strike when lighting the fire - looking thoughtful and candle lit is inspired by those recent shots by Riccardo Ghilardi

Strike towelled off his hair and carefully dried his right leg, applying the powder which ensured the cuff of his prosthesis didn’t chaff.   
He hopped in front of the sink in fresh boxer shorts and ran water to shave – well, shave some bits and trim the rest – before smoothing a dot or two of his traditional after shave across the result and dragging the remnants through his hair and across his chest.  
He’d instructed Robin to dress for comfort as the plan was to eat in the lodge….but the food choices were not exactly casual, and he still wanted to make the evening special….it was the last day of Robin’s twenties after all!  
Dressing in a pair of smart (for him!) trousers he fastened the buttons on a checked linen shirt and rolled up the sleeves to the elbow.   
He knew he’d lost a little weight recently, and was pleased when there was no bulge above the waist of his trousers as he tucked it in, noticing that his belt was now several notches lower…..easing up on beer and replacing it with whisky combined with making the effort to cook rather than opt for take out at least 3 times a week seemed to be an effective diet after all! Who knew?!

His hair had now dried into it’s traditional collection of tousled unruliness, although a few of the longer tendrils at the back remained slightly damp.  
Glancing at his watch as he fastened it on he realised that the food would be being delivered shortly. The staff from the hotel had explained the process – they’d send over a couple of people to set up their dining area, like for room service, and would leave each of the prepared courses of food in such a way that they would remain at the correct temperature using a mixture of the lodge cooker (which he’d been instructed to switch on and preheat), the fridge and a heated trolley.

He wandered through to the main living area as Robin was descending the staircase.   
He inhaled sharply at the sight of her natural and yet ridiculously sexy appearance.   
She noticed his rather lingering gaze and regarded her choice of outfit compared to his, “You did say comfort,” she toyed self consciously with the cowl neck of her soft sweater.  
Cormoran shook his head slightly, “No….trust me, it’s, er…..perfect,” and he indicated with his hand towards her general figure.

“So are we eating here then?” Robin asked moving over to her laptop and beginning to scroll down the screen, her eyes flashing and narrowing as she opened an email and surveyed the contents, “Barclay got some decent pictures of Belly Dancer today….oooh, very decent, probably enough to get the client in and get paid!” she grinned, wiggling her shoulders happily.  
Strike smiled at her enthusiasm, “We are eating here! I got the restaurant to send the dishes over, so someone should be coming across shortly….” He broke off as a knock sounded on the door of the lodge, “Talk of the devil!”

He let in 3 resort staff laden with bags and boxes who assured Strike that they would handle everything.  
He shrugged slightly and stepped out into the evening darkness for a cigarette whilst the staff bustled around and Robin continued to check through stuff on her computer.  
The dining table in the lodge was set up for 2 diners, crockery and cutlery laid out along with glassware and a small table arrangement of polished pebbles and small candles.   
The staff adjusted drapes and lighting around the main living area and set out the meal choices as per the specific instructions on their printed list.  
One of the staff gained Strike’s attention as he stubbed out his cigarette.  
“I’ve placed everything out and these instructions will give you an idea about serving and preparing each dish – there isn’t anything to do,” the youngish man hastily added upon seeing Strike’s look of slight concern, “It’s more to do with which of these to stick on at the end,” and he indicated a numbered sequence of small trays, each containing garnishes.  
Strike nodded, he could definitely handle a lemon wedge and a sprinkling of rock salt.

“Wine is already at the correct temperature – white in the bucket at the table and red on the side, and the special item is in the fridge in a covered box….just try not to move it around too much when you take it out,” he explained in hushed tones.  
“Well, thanks very much, I appreciate all of this…..just means we can relax a little bit after today…..long drive……busy conference….,” Strike stated, although the youngish member of staff flicked his eyes across to where Robin was sitting and back to Strike’s freshly showered appearance and merely nodded with a brief flick of his eyebrows.

Strike closed the door after they’d left and Robin put down the laptop, sensing that they were alone again.  
“Oh wow!” she smiled, trailing her finger around the fancy tableware and sniffing at the range of delicious aromas wafting from the kitchen area.  
Strike went over to the fireplace and dipped down to ignite the small kindling he’d placed at the base of the fire.   
He rasped a hand across his chin and flicked his eyes over to Robin as the flames took hold and crackled.  
Robin glanced across a fraction of a second after he removed his gaze from her.   
His features looked thoughtful as his right hand rested lightly across his beard. The flickering light from the fire cast a rather delicious glow to his face…..it was all rather romantic actually.

Oh shit!

“I’m rather pleased with that,” Strike commented as he came across to the table to pour wine for them both – white for Robin and red for him. “I haven’t set a fire since I was last in Cornwall. Uncle Ted and Auntie Joan have an open fire as well as central heating, and I tell you…..there is something magical about staring into flames!”  
Robin took the glass he handed her and tapped it to his in a ‘cheers’.  
“Not quite the Tottenham, but….good food, decent drink and great company….shall we?” he flicked his head towards the table and pulled out a chair for Robin who giggled as she settled into it.  
“Are you sure this is OK? You wouldn’t have preferred to go back and network a bit?”   
Robin made a small ooooohhh shape with her mouth as Cormoran placed the first of their courses in front of her and flicked on a Jack Savoretti playlist as background on his phone before he sat at the other seat.

He crinkled his eyes slightly as Robin tucked one of her bare feet up onto the chair to make herself more comfortable before lifting a sliver of silky, coral coloured smoked salmon into her mouth with her fingers.  
There wasn’t even the tiniest part of him that wished they were dressed up in a fancy restaurant right now….this was about as perfect as life got!

“I’ve done enough networking…and I’ve certainly spent enough time watching you getting eyed up by young, horny police recruits….so trust me, this is great!” he replied before scooping up a rather gloriously speckled piece of oily salami and wrapping it around a cornichon before popping it into his mouth with a groan of delight.

Starters finished, Strike cleared the plates and regarded the instruction card:  
“Now, I didn’t actually order this….it’s down as an ‘amuse bouche’ to be served between the starter and main course, “ he read aloud, “….I’ve got no idea what it is!”  
He returned to the table with two rather oddly shaped ceramic pots, each containing a taupe coloured mousse-like substance, which was warm having been kept within a small heated pod.  
Robin regarded it with the same level of intrigue and distrust as Strike, “Are you sure it isn’t a chocolate mousse and supposed to be for pudding and you’re just reading the instructions wrong?” Robin quipped cheekily, giggling as she caught Strike’s raised eyebrow response.  
“Get it eaten Ellacott!” and he delved his spoon into the bowl, mimicking Robin’s noise of surprise and delight as the tasty mixture met his tastebuds.

“That’s gorgeous!” Robin purred, licking the spoon rather languidly and making Strike instantly wish he could be reincarnated as a piece of cutlery.  
“I reckon there are mushrooms involved,” Strike mused, taking several more spoonfuls from the pot.  
Robin nodded and made a guttural, ‘Mmmmmm’ of agreement, “Oh, God there’s crunchy stuff at the bottom….dig down a bit more!” and her delighted squirms made Cormoran almost growl with desire.  
They giggled over whether it would be considered obscene to lick the bowls and decided that the acceptable middle ground was scraping as much as possible with their fingers and licking those.

“Well….my bouche is very much amooosed!” Robin declared, resting back in her chair and drinking from her rapidly emptying glass.  
Strike refilled both hers and his; the red seemed fairly strong judging by the fact that he’d only had one glass and was actually starting to feel a little giddy….although that could be down to recently watching as Robin licked the remnants of chestnut and mushroom velouté from her fingers across from him.

“You ready for the next course?” he asked, placing his napkin on the table as he got up.  
Robin peered up, adjusting her hair as he removed her plate.   
Jesus he looked fucking sexy! 

It had taken every ounce of her control not to leap across the table as he ran his large fingers around the small, ceramic bowl before engulfing one at a time into his mouth, making noises that she could only possibly describe as animalistic.

“Whatever comes next has a lot to live up to after that,” she stated; the implied double entendre completely meant.  
Strike shifted his stance slightly, crockery balanced in each hand and across his forearms, ‘waiter style’.   
On an impulse which he told himself was fuelled by red wine and good food, he leaned down close to her heavenly, honey coloured hair and whispered, huskily, “I’ll see what I can do,” before crossing to the kitchen and pressing his eyes closed in an effort to steady his breathing and silence the voice in his head which was telling him that he was potentially being a ‘stupid fucker’.

Robin gasped as his comment reverberated through her brain; the effect of his deep voice so close to her ear rippled through her body like a tsunami and seemed to lodge between her thighs like a bullet of pure desire.  
She glanced across at his back as he made his way through the short distance to the kitchen area before he turned and glanced up almost roguishly, sweeping his hand through his dark hair prior to focussing on the list of instructions for the main meals.  
Fuck!   
Did he have any idea what he was doing to her?   
That body language…..that was definitely straight out of Dr Phillips’ presentation…..if he started drawing attention to his mouth then….shit!

SHIT!

Cormoran’s thumb had found his lip and was toying with it as he perused the instruction card in his left hand….and then he flashed her a soft, crooked lipped smile, “Won’t be a minute….there are fifteen instructions for this one!”

 

Robin felt her lips part slightly and knew that the gusset of her rather racy cream knickers was now ruined.   
And then realisation hit her like a tonne of bricks……he had been at the same presentation on body language as her…..that meant he knew exactly what he was doing…..and was waiting to see if it was having the same effect on her!

Shit!   
He was as horny for her as she was for him!

And there were another two courses yet!

‘OK…..think back to Dr Phillips,’ Robin said to herself, before she lifted up her wine glass, took a further sip and made her way over to join Strike.  
“Anything I can help you with?” she asked, resting her elbows on the slightly cluttered work top and tilting her head slightly in an attempt to read the printed instructions, but which exposed a long curve of her slender neck towards him.

Cormoran battled the temptation to answer her with the truthful response of, “Yeah, you can help me deal with a raging erection and the need to see what your mouth tastes like!”  
Instead he mimicked her pose, elbows resting between plates, a spoon and a small tray of ingredients.   
He lifted a sprig of some herb and twirled it between his fingers, “This is supposed to go on your lamb cutlet. Do you want it?” his voice almost melting her neck with it’s depth and sultriness.  
Robin pursed her lips into an incredibly seductive pout before she answered, “Oh yeah. I want it all to be perfect.”

Shit!

Strike had been going over some of the Dr Phillips stuff in his head and although he’d decided to go with ‘wine, soft lighting and let’s see’ he had also decided to fuck it and throw a bit more at the situation….and now Robin was batting back everything he threw at her in the most alluring and sexy way.

Would it be inappropriate to sod the lamb cutlets and beef rib that were waiting to be plated up and just pull her across the work top?

Yes!......probably!

And she had said she had wanted things perfect….and OK, she might just mean the main meal….but no…..she’d been at that same presentation…..he was fairly sure she knew what she was doing…..there was just the slightest, outside chance that at any moment she’d slap him on the shoulder and make some comment about body language being so easy to imitate…..shit!   
Damn his investigative and continually questioning brain!

“Right, well, if you want perfect go and sit down and be patient while I concentrate,” and he swiped the instruction card back from her grasp and tapped her playfully on the chin with it.  
“Are you implying that I’m a distraction?” she asked over her shoulder as she wandered back to the table, sliding into her seat and resting her chin on her palm.

Cormoran considered his response.   
This had seemed to go from friendly and comfortable to verging on hot and steamy rather quickly, so he dialled things down again, “You frequently distract me….usually with mugs of tea and Hobnobs….or amazing observations you have made off photographs……or…..” and the oven timer pinged to interrupt him from adding, ‘or just by being so completely beautiful!’ to the list.

He cleared his throat and focussed his attention of plating up two different cuts of beef with a marrowbone, devilishly dark sauce and vegetables, and three different lamb dishes with caramelised apples, a foaming sauce that he squirted out of what appeared to be a soda syphon and carried each to the table.

He added the wisp of herby garnish to Robin’s plate at the table with a small bow, “Madam required perfection…..this is my version of it anyway!”

They ate in warm, companiable conversation.   
Each of the dishes was delicious and they passed over mouthfuls of each other’s selections, Cormoran not quite reaching the fork fully across the table so that Robin had to extend her pink tongue slightly as she tasted the various morsels.

Glasses were topped up again, there was a small glassful left in the bottle of white, Strike’s red was empty save for the amount remaining in his own glass.  
“That….was completely delicious!” Robin exclaimed, leaning back in her chair and slumping her shoulders slightly to signify satiated fullness.   
Strike nodded, running his tongue around inside his mouth to dislodge a stray piece of food.   
He smiled at her fondly, “We still have dessert, plus coffee, plus a tray of little bits of sweet things,” and he grinned as she groaned.  
“Can we just go and slob on the sofa for a bit first? Is that OK?” she asked.  
“Course it’s OK. Go and get comfy I’ll get rid of these…Go!” he pressed as she made to start helping shift the plates.

 

Robin took the remains of her and Strike’s wine across to the fire.   
The sofa did look tempting – it was one of those huge ‘L’ shaped ones covered in cosy throw blankets and cushions….but the deep piled sheepskin rug directly infront of the crackling fire was an even nicer prospect, so she slouched down with her back resting against the sofa, one leg extended towards the fire, the other bent at the knee with her bare toes nestling into the soft fleece.  
She stared into the flames and allowed herself to get slightly lost. 

She was single; she was about as ‘together’ as she’d been in her almost thirty years of existence; and she was sharing what was turning into one of the most romantically charged evenings of her life with someone that she fancied the arse off.  
Things were good.

Her slight daydream was broken by Strike joining her and adding 2 more logs onto the fire which crackled and caught immediately, sending an intriguing array of coloured flames dancing in the hearth and reflecting against Robin’s creamy skin and honey coloured hair.

In the kitchen, as he’d sorted through the plates and stacked them in the crates supplied Stroke had run through some of the interactions with Robin throughout the evening.   
She definitely seemed to be sending him signals which, now that he was aware of the whole Trae Phillips insights, appeared quite obviously ones of attraction.  
Joining her at the fireplace he had a choice to make – he could join her on the rug or lower himself onto the sofa…..what did he want to do?.....and what did she want him to do?

As he added logs to the fire the decision was made for him as Robin grasped a cushion from the sofa behind her and plopped it to the space next to her on the rug.  
“This is completely, and utterly, sooooooo much better than getting dressed up to go to a fancy restaurant,” she stated, holding out his wine as he lowered himself carefully via the sofa to the rug and stretched his long legs out towards the flames.  
“It is,” he replied softly, clinking his glass to hers for a second time, “Here’s to us….we make a pretty good team.”  
Robin sipped and rested her head against the broad, comforting bulk of Strike’s shoulder beside her and sensed him inhaling slowly as he sipped his wine.  
“Do we really have to check out of here tomorrow?” Robin asked, keeping her cheek pressed into Cormoran’s chest and closing her eyes to prolong the sensation of inhaling his cologne and hearing his resonant, steady heartbeat.  
She felt him clear his throat slightly, “Yes…..sadly we really do, because I have to get you back in time for the surprise birthday party that I know you know Ilsa is throwing for you!”  
Robin laughed and took the opportunity of squirming slightly closer to Strike.  
“Please act surprised! She’ll be gutted if she thinks you've twigged….and I’ll be in major bother!” he added.

Robin tilted her head around slightly and looked up at him, the flames reflecting in her grey eyes, “I’ll act surprised….I’m good at being discrete and keeping stuff secret.”  
Cormoran could have easily dipped his head and brought his mouth to hers, but it still didn’t feel completely right……what if it was just the wine and his wishful thinking?  
“Have you made a bit of room for pudding?” he asked, easing himself up onto the sofa.  
“Can we stay here?” Robin indicated the rug with her finger and a quizzical gaze.  
“Yeah….alright.”

Strike returned a few moments later carrying a large flat plate which he placed reverently down on Robin’s lap.  
“I’m not singing!” he stated, smiling adoringly at her look of joy and excitement at the dessert.   
The message of ‘Happy 30th Birthday Robin’ was emblazoned on the platter in a rich looking chocolate sauce, and a smallish, but reasonable sized chocolate cake was positioned next to it complete with a candle in the top.  
Strike leaned across and lit it with his lighter, “Happy Birthday, Robin,” he whispered softly and stared longingly at the face which was now lit up further by the glow of the candle she was leaning towards, her eyelids closed gently before she blew it out.  
“Did you make a wish?” he asked, brandishing pastry forks from his shirt pocket.  
Robin took one and nodded, “Yep….but it won’t come true if I tell you.”  
She held his gaze for a fraction of a second longer than was necessary. 

He’d done this….he’d got the restaurant to make her a special birthday dessert….and he’d arranged it for her here because she’d not wanted to go out….and he was looking back at her with his piercing green eyes that looked just a little bit more piercing and dark than usual….it might be the wine?  
“Well, dig in! I can’t exactly nick any until you start!” he said, flashing her an impish grin.

She scooped out a large mouthful of the cake – it contained a multi layered sponge filled with caramel, chocolate and coffee flavoured creams and was lighter than clouds.  
“Oh, my God!” Robin drooled, savouring the flavours and holding the plate in such a way as to invite Strike to join her in devouring the dessert.  
“God that’s good!” he growled, demolishing a massive mouthful of the cake and shifting slightly on the rug to get better access to the plate across Robin’s thighs.

They ate almost ravenously, a mixture of groans and slightly obscene sucking noises emanating from them both until only the chocolate ‘message’ remained.   
Robin tilted the plate and swiped her tongue across to remove the ‘Happy 30th Birthday’ part of the swirled sauce and offered the plate to Strike where only the word ‘Robin’ remained.  
Without leaving her gaze, he dipped his neck and licked across the platter, trying not to think about the irony of the word he was devouring with his tongue.

She sat back, satiated and humming against the sofa, sucking on the fork, tossing it to the floor and waggling her eyebrows as she twisted slightly to face Strike.  
“Thank you. That was really good…and really sweet,” she pouted, tucking her hair behind her ear and revealing her slightly pink cheeks – possibly because of the fire, possibly the wine, possibly arousal……possibly all three!

“You’ve got a bit of chocolate on your lip,” he stated.  
Robin delicately touched a finger to the corner of her mouth and flicked the tip of her tongue against it, watching carefully as Strike’s eyes followed every move.  
“Did I get it?” she asked, facing him straight on and raising her eyes seductively.  
“Not quite,” he whispered.  
She shifted towards him and grazed the tips of her fingers against his arm which was resting casually against the sofa cushion.  
“Then you’ll have to help me,” she purred, not quite closing her lips and refusing to move her eyes from his as he closed the distance between them.

He felt a heady rush of….well, Christ knows what…..euphoria? madness? alcohol? sugar? adrenaline? horniness? desperation?  
Whatever the fuck it was, he decided to act on it and closed the remaining space between them, running the tip of his tongue across her parted lips and feeling her neck melt slightly as he slid back slightly from her.

“Did that help?” he asked, huskily, toying with a tendril of her hair which had fallen across the sleeve of his shirt.  
“Not sure? Did you get it all?” she asked.  
“I’d better check,” and he barely finished the statement before she reached out to his neck and pulled his mouth towards hers again.  
He slid his large hand around to cradle her skull and allowed his lips to slant across hers, stifling a small groan as he felt her returning the pressure of his mouth with her own, and it was her lips which parted first, her tongue which sought out his and stroked into his mouth.  
They remained locked together, exploring each other’s mouths stroking their hands across each others’ necks, shoulders, arms, hands, hair.  
They kissed and kissed, neither wanting to cease and face the aftermath of what was happening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The smut will follow....once I've written it!


	5. Smuttikins time! and a sweet bit too.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Smut....just smut, pure and simple.....in front of that log fire and painstakingly slow!  
> Shout out to LulaIsAKitten - she knows what for......and it is perfect!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No pun intended but this is a long one!  
> I also added a Robin squeeee!

After what felt like both an eternity and a moment they eased apart, their foreheads remaining attached as they panted and tried to regain control of their breathing.  
“Finally!” Cormoran breathed.  
“This is so perfect,” Robin whispered, stroking against the buttons on Strike’s shirt.  
“Yeah….that body language guy told me that we were….perfect that is….I knew how I felt….about you….but he said you were saying the same things back,” he stroked a strand of her silken hair behind her ear and allowed his palm to remain pressed lightly against her cheek.  
Robin nuzzled against his hand and smiled back into his soft eyes, “Yeah….he certainly seems to know his stuff!” and she shifted towards him as Cormoran slid his arms around her waist and pulled her across his lap.  
He kissed her again, this time with an added degree of ferocity and passion, his hands splaying and roving around her back and pressing her body against his as her bent thigh straddled him fully, leaving her own hands fisting into his soft hair as she answered his passion with her own.  
“Are you sure about this? It’s not just the wine is it?” he asked, between warm, wet kisses.  
Robin shook her head and moved her mouth determinedly along his bristled jaw, biting and moaning as she was finally able to enjoy the sensation of his beard, skin, cologne and slight hint of tobacco, “Cormoran….I want this….I want us….and I feel like we’ve wasted too much time already.”

She felt him sob slightly as she hitched herself closer and higher onto his lap.   
Her fancier than usual knickers had created a tightness that was tugging pleasantly against her most intimate area as she writhed against him, and his own stiffness was completely evident through the flimsy fabric of her yoga trousers.  
“God you feel so good,” she heard him breathe against her neck as she tilted her head back and whimpered into his caresses.

She leaned back against his arms supporting her back, there was a flush evident across her cheeks, and a slight sheen to her otherwise flawless face.  
“You look warm….and beautiful,” he whispered huskily as she leaned back further in his arms and he eased her down onto the rug in front of the glowing flames. “I want to unwrap you,” he growled.

He lay beside her and propped himself up onto one elbow, his fingers trailing a lazy filigree up and down her arms, shoulders, along each of her sides and across her flat stomach, marvelling in the contrast between the softness of her sweater and her firm, toned body beneath.  
Soft whimpering sighs emanated from her lips, and a slight giggle accompanied his fingertip investigation at the join of her hips and waist.   
He made a mental note of each flicker across her face – where was she sensitive? Where was she ticklish? 

“I thought you were unwrapping me?” Robin hissed as she writhed slightly under his touch and intensely erotic gaze.  
“I’m savouring it,” he replied, moving fractionally lower down after pressing a deep kiss to her lips.   
He located the hem of her sweater and prized the fabric up to reveal the slimmest line of creamy skin across her belly, just below her navel.  
Ghosting his mouth across the softness he licked delicately with his tongue, enjoying the moan of complete desire and need which his actions resulted in.

He turned the sweater up again, this time revealing a further strip of her skin, and her belly button.   
He circled the tip of his tongue across her flesh before dipping it into the small indentation and sucking his lips around to form a seal before withdrawing and gently rubbing his bristled beard across where his mouth had been.

Robin was having difficulty keeping her eyes open, but was desperate to watch what he was doing. His focus was so intense, his movements seemed so precise, so well practised….as if he had rehearsed what he would do if this opportunity arose….as if he had dreamed and imagined this very moment.

She found him squirming to part her legs and she created space for him to settle between them, his elbows and hands resting beside her waist.   
She felt the slight heat of his breath and moistness of his tongue as he worked her jumper higher to reveal more of her smooth torso, up as high as the lower edge of her bra.   
With a deep sigh and a flick of his hands he moved the soft cashmere up and gazed at her breasts, barely and perfectly encased by creamy coloured satin, and enough lace to leave little to the imagination.  
Despite the heat from the fire her nipples were clearly stiffening beneath the flimsy fabric and he blew across them, palming over the top of each one and grinning as it reduced Robin to a sobbing, swearing wreck beneath him.

“Shall I stop?” he asked, nuzzling into the cleft between her breasts, mouthing at the soft skin and making his arousal and desire for her evident through his hooded, swirling green eyes alone.  
Robin looked down, lips parted, and lost her hands in his thick curls, loving the way he pressed back into her palms with his eyelids fluttering closed.  
She shook her head and arched up her shoulders as his hands moved to slide the sweater up and over her head.   
He inhaled sharply and brought his mouth down to cover the softly freckled skin of her chest, licking across the mounds of her creamy breasts and allowing his hands to slide across her ribcage to cup each and move his thumbs across the taut, puckered nipples below.  
“God you’re so beautiful,” he whispered, trailing his teeth gently along each shoulder, and groaning as her hands grasped at his shoulders, urging him on.

Her hips were twisting beneath his broad chest, revelling in the small amount of friction presented by the buttons of his shirt and his trouser belt.   
She could feel the moistness between her legs and was beginning to feel like her spine was collapsing as he caressed her.

He toyed his fingertips at the waistband of her soft yoga pants and slid a single finger beneath the fabric, watching carefully for signs that she wanted him to slow down further…..but damn it, he was taking this as slowly as he’d imagined in his past, vivid dreams involving the woman who was languidly writhing in the firelight beneath him.

He gave a slight tug to the fabric at her hips and smiled, wolfishly as she wriggled to allow him to slide the garment down and over her thighs.  
Strike grasped his lower lip between his teeth at the sight of her small, ridiculously sexy knickers, barely covering the fair thatch between her legs.   
The sides of her underwear consisted of 3, slim strips of satin, almost like ribbons and he didn’t dare imagine what they led to at the back….he just knew it wouldn’t be massive section of greying, saggy cotton!

His already stiff cock was pressing painfully against the fly of his trousers.   
He had vividly imagined undressing Robin – it was one of his recurring fantasies – and in his mental version he had always pictured her in either black underwear (when he had his fantasy involving undressing Robin after an evening where she was dressed in ‘that’ green dress) or practical, everyday underwear (when he’d pictured taking her in the office after some case or work based event)….he’d never imagined this option now in front of him, which was to say deliciously sexy yet romantic looking pale coloured underwear.

She wriggled the soft lounge trousers from her calves and dug her toes into the soft pile of the sheepskin rug.  
Strike took his large palm down to engulf the heel of one foot.   
He stroked softly, carefully along the back of her smooth calf and cupped the silky skin behind her knee, bending her leg up before continuing his caresses along her thigh, pausing at the crease of her hip.

All of his actions were slow, purposeful and were not accompanied by any words.   
He followed the pattern of his hands with his eyes, flicking them up to her face, watching for signs of discomfort, unease….but he saw none.   
What he observed was Robin relaxing into his touch, tensing and squirming when his hands left her skin and seeking out more of the sensations flooding through her body.

Strike dipped his face down and trailed kisses along the path of his fingers across her hipbones, experimenting with his teeth, nibbling and rubbing them against her skin, inhaling her heavenly scent.   
He followed the path of her knickers with the tip of his tongue, tracing the slender straps at the sides and flicking his tongue beneath each, realising as he growled against her that the straps ended very close to the small v shaped collection of golden hairs between her thighs.  
Robin bucked slightly into his mouth and mimicked his guttural moan as she felt the bristles of his beard combined with the heat from his breath against her.

He dragged himself back up her body and allowed his palms to glide across her bra. His fingertips slid teasingly beneath the straps, stroking the sliver of skin hidden below before travelling down beneath the fabric, covering the rounded flesh and rolling across the pearl hard nipples.  
She gasped and arched her back into his touch, hissing his name.  
He continued stroking and cupping her breasts, gently easing her bra down her shoulders before allowing one hand to slide beneath her and rather expertly unclip the garment, pulling it gently from her body and hissing as her perfect breasts were exposed to him fully.

“God Robin, you’re fucking perfect!” he whispered; his voice deep and low, like molten lava to her groin.

She pouted up at him and flicked her gaze between her breasts and his mouth. He saw and grinned, enjoying teasing her, enjoying the fact that she wanted him, wanted his mouth on her.  
He slowly lowered his lips to her and kissed the soft, rounded mounds of skin, slowly sucking and kissing the flesh, running his hand up to caress one whilst sliding his tongue languidly around the other.   
He flicked the tip of his tongue around the taut skin of her nipple and tenderly tugged with his teeth before moving across to explore the other, this time laving his tongue against her firmly.  
She wasn’t sure which sensation was the most delicious…..she only knew that she’d never felt anything like it.   
Her shithole husband had never taken his time like this….he’d never pleasured her solely without expecting something himself; and yet here was Cormoran; still fully dressed and focussing entirely on her.  
Little did she know that his own enjoyment was being ramped up by acting out this fantasy.

He had moved onto his side beside her and tipped her body slightly to enable her breast to almost fall into his mouth where he engulfed it and nuzzled into it’s soft warmth.   
He allowed his hand to drift down past her belly button and found the tantalising sliver of satin covering her. He dipped his fingers between her thighs, stroking against the smooth fabric and slipped against the soaked lace nestling against her aching and frankly desperate pussy.  
He growled at the feeling of her heat, knowing that she was so wet for him…..that she wanted him.

“This feels incredibly right,” he breathed, dragging his mouth along her jaw, waiting for her response to know whether what he thought she wanted was actually what she wanted.  
Robin languidly lifted her arms above her head on the rug and parted her legs slightly wondering whether it was possible to mentally will his fingers to explore more of her.  
And apparently it was!

She gasped as she felt him slide his fingers under the narrow fabric between her legs and moaned as he explored her soft, silken skin. He rubbed gently but firmly, curling his fingers and cradling her mound under his palm, pressing deliciously down as he brought her lips back to his.  
Her tongue almost shamelessly sought out his and one hand tangled into the unruly curls at the nape of his neck.  
“God, Cormoran……that feels so good,” she moaned against his mouth; their kisses were becoming messier, more needy as his fingers swirled and pressed, and then suddenly he had pushed one inside her.

His lips parted as he watched her reaction, she threw her head back onto the rug, her hair splaying around her as he delved and stroked within her.   
He angled his finger and caressed her as he’d been doing all evening, but somehow he managed to locate the perfect spot within her that made her squirm and writhe beneath him.  
“I really hope that feels good for you Robin,” he whispered throatily, close to her ear and biting gently on a spot on her neck just below her earlobe before pressing a second of his strong, dexterous fingers into her velvety warmth.  
“Oh….fuuuck!” she uttered, tensing around his fingers as he dipped his head and began to renew his acquaintance with her nipples, licking with the delicacy of a kitten whilst rubbing into her with a building tempo and pressure.  
“Cormoran….I’m going to……oh God,” and she tensed beneath him, clutching at the sheepskin rug and twitching her hips uncontrollably as her orgasm shuddered through her.  
Strike watched intently, dipping his tongue to lave against her clit as she began to silently call out his name and clutch at his shoulders.

Satisfied that he had dragged a powerful orgasm from her he slowed and removed his fingers from her soaked, spasming core.  
He smiled smugly down at her blissed out expression, tousled hair and pink cheeks.  
She almost growled at him and rolled over slightly, flashing him a glimpse of the back, or rather lack of the back, of her knickers – only the trio of straps leading to a small butterfly shaped piece of lace nestling between her smooth buttocks was visible. 

“That alright?” he asked, flashing her a smouldering, self confident grin.  
Robin nodded and shook her hair slightly across her slightly glazed eyes, “Is it still technically a birthday wish if it isn’t quite my birthday?” she giggled, kicking him lightly with her foot.  
“Well, if that is what you wished for I’m sure I can rustle up an encore after midnight…..if you ask nicely…”

Robin stretched out, cat-like on the rug and hummed sexily, glancing up at him, “You’re overdressed!” she purred, trailing her fingertips against the buttons of his shirt, a further one of which appeared to have come unfastened, maybe as a result of her clawing fingers.  
“Are we staying here?” he asked, teasing his lips across her shoulders, gliding the tendrils of amber coloured hair away with his curled fingers which still smelled of her sex.  
Robin allowed her head to drop backwards and smiled, “I’m going nowhere….my legs won’t work…..and I’m toasty.”  
“Well if your legs won’t work we’re screwed and we’ll have to stay here……can’t do anything with only one decent leg between us!…..speaking of which….can I…deal with this?” and he shifted on the rug, moving his right leg slightly awkwardly .  
Robin nodded and continued to smile into her crossed over forearms as he pulled himself up onto the sofa so that he could deal with his trousers and remove his prosthesis. 

Robin gazed across and watched the process as he adeptly placed his limb on the sofa. He glanced across at her smiling face, as he moved to pull his trousers back up.  
“Don’t! I’ve already said you’re far too overdressed! Take them off and get back here,” she wheedled.

 

“If you stick another log on that fire I reckon it’ll be too hot for that shirt,” she breathed, waggling her eyebrows saucily and wriggling her hips into the rug, drawing even more attention to the perfect curve of her arse.  
“OK, hint taken,” he stated, reaching across her to place a further log onto the crackling embers, earning a tutting groan from Robin as she twisted and grabbed his shirt.  
She quickly worked her way down the buttons and slid her hands firmly against the thick pelt of his chest, pushing his shirt from his shoulders and trailing her gaze down to his boxer shorts where his raging erection was still evident.  
Robin’s hand scratched against his skin, her small nails digging into his broad, muscular back and pulling his warm body towards hers.   
Cormoran let out a hissing gasp as she pressed her naked breasts against him and rolled onto her side, trailing her fingers along his bicep and darkly haired forearm.  
She allowed her hand to dip down and cup over the back of his boxer shorts, enjoying the hitch to his breathing as she squeezed his rather firm buttocks.

“That thing you did earlier……,” she waited while he nodded and raised a single eyebrow, “…..that was only half of my birthday wish you know….and I still haven’t told you the other half…..so……can I have this too?” and she whimpered as she sneaked her hand beneath the waistband of his boxers and gripped the base of his thick shaft.  
Strike couldn’t close his mouth for a second as he tried to rein in his emotions…..in this part of his fantasy it was always his own hand, not the small, slender and soft one now gripping his cock that played this part.

“What exactly do you want?” he asked, biting down on his lips as her hand stroked his length…..fucking perfectly….and if she carried on it wouldn't matter what she wanted; there’d be nothing he could do!

He unclenched his fist from where it rested on his thigh and moved it again towards her knickers, this time tugging at the sides and moaning as Robin moved with him to assist removing them.   
Robin turned her attention to his underwear and tugged to release his cock fully, pulling the stretchy fabric over his rear and down to his thighs where he moved a little to remove them fully, kneeling back, stroking his own length as she opened her legs for him.  
He carefully and intently looked at her soft, pink seam, parting her lips and teasing his finger around her dark opening, glorying in how wet she was again.

“Did you make me lick that plate on purpose earlier on?” he asked, staring down at her open mouthed desire and flicking his gaze between her eyes, mouth and glistening pussy.  
She smiled and pursed her lips, nodding, “Yeah….I wanted to watch to lick Robin!” she whispered and sobbed as he lifted her hips and dipped his face down to lick a smooth line against her, humming deeply as his tongue flicked around her, sometimes firm, sometimes delicate….always divine.

“Do you still want to watch?” he breathed, blowing across her hole gently and grinding his beard into her mound.  
Robin nodded and twisted her hips into the delicious sensation Cormoran was delivering.   
She shouted….possibly his name, possibly calling to a deity…..as he slid a finger back inside her.  
He knew that he could bring her off again, but his own needs were now very much at the forefront of his mind – being naked with Robin gripping your face with her thighs will do that!

He eased her from him and rested her back against the rug. He then crawled up above her and positioned himself on his elbows, his mouth still slightly slicked by her own musky, sweet juices.  
“Oh God, please…..I want you so much,” she whimpered, reaching between them both to position his cock against her.  
“You sure?” he almost begged…..if she said no he wasn’t sure what he’d do.  
“Cormoran….” Saying his name did it…especially when she muttered it with such desire, with his leaking cock rubbing against her opening and her hand urging him on.  
He looked down tenderly as he shifted his hips and slid deeply inside her, pulling back slightly in order to fit his length fully into her, stilling and watching as her face contorted slightly.

Fuck, he was much bigger than Matthew……he’d fucking hate that…..although Strike would probably love it!

She adjusted to him and smiled up as he moved slightly back, pushing forwards and filling her so completely.   
She dragged back one of her legs and wrapped it around his hips, pushing the base of his back against her and moving her hips up against him.

“God, Robin,” he panted, starting to move with her, their bodies finding a natural, slow and luxurious rhythm.   
The firelight illuminated their bodies as they moved as one. Robin undulated back into his thrusts, a shimmering sheen of sweat breaking out across their brows as the fire took hold and started to bat out additional heat to that which they were creating.

Their movements were perfect; like they had practised a million times, their faces staring and smiling, watching for slight hitches to breathing, slight flitters of eyelids. Robin grasped at his shoulders, Strike slid a hand under her back and moved her arse into each deep, purposeful thrust of his hips.   
His other hand eased her thigh even further back as though trying to somehow create a boneless bond of their bodies.

Robin had long since lost control of her vocabulary, only finding and forming the words, “Fuck!”, “Yes!”, “Christ!” and “Cormoran!”  
Strike was somehow, (Christ knows how?!) managing to last, but the feeling of Robin grasping at his skin, wrapping her legs high around his back and clenching around his cock with her warm, hot pussy was too much and with a few more deep, twitching bucks of his hips he shouted her name and came, pulsing copiously inside her as she ground herself against him, eeking the maximum amount of pleasure from her own orgasm.

“Oh…..thank fuck for that!” she panted, gasping and swivelling her neck from side to side.

Cormoran stilled himself and formed the word, “What?”

Robin continued to try to steady her breathing as he rolled carefully from her, almost burning his arse on the fireplace as he did so.  
“I’m just really glad that after all that waiting we weren’t shit at fucking each other!” she panted.

Cormoran shook his head slowly, “Not possible….just not possible!” and he breathed deeply at her neck, inhaling ‘Robin’….his Robin.

They wriggled to get comfortable on the rug, neither feeling the need to cover up, or pull their stomachs in or hide any part from the other.  
Strike lay on his back, and arm thrown around Robin who was nestled into his chest, casually stroking his chest hair and kissing close to his soft, dark nipple amidst it.  
He raised his arm and looked at the time on his watch, “Hey….it is officially your birthday…….do you want your present?” he asked softly, peppering her scalp with tender kisses.  
“You mean that wasn’t it?” she giggled, squirming around to lye on her belly beside him, propped up on her elbows.  
“Well, I’m the gift that keeps on giving!” he growled, pulling her across him, her thighs straddling his partial limb. “Seriously, I have got you a present….it’s even wrapped up! I know, don’t faint!” and they laughed as he hauled himself up to rest on his elbows.   
Robin noticed his slight grimace as he realised he needed to put his leg back on to fetch it.

“Why don’t we go to bed and you can give it to me there?” she suggested, standing up and trailing her hands out to his to indicate he should get up too.  
“You go ahead and get comfy….I won’t be a minute,” he stated, winking as she swiped up his shirt and pulled it on, tossing his boxer shorts at him before sauntering seductively towards the ground floor bedroom.

When he joined her she had pee’d and was sat on his bed, still looking ridiculously sexy in his 'enormous on her' shirt with her hair a mess of amber gold tangles….it reminded him of the morning they got rudely woken up by a police officer in Barrow after that night they spent in the Land Rover.

“You have absolutely no right to make my clothes look so sexy!” he purred in his deeply erotic baritone. Robin smiled and followed his gaze as he reached down a small, flat, neatly wrapped parcel from a shelf in the wardrobe.  
“It really IS wrapped!” she grinned and received an animalistic attack on her neck from Cormoran.  
“Only because it is a simple shape!” he pointed out. “Open it!”. He seemed quite ridiculously excited as she moved the parcel around in her hands.

“Thank you,” she whispered and kissed him sweetly before carefully opening the paper and pulling out the book it contained.  
Her hand flew to her mouth and tears instantly formed at her eyes, “Where did you?......Oh God…….Oh Cormoran!” she sobbed out, the tears overflowing her eyes and rolling down her cheeks in fat, shiny crystals, but she was smiling.  
“You told me about it that night we slept in the Land Rover in Barrow….do you remember? I asked if you had ever stolen something and you told me how you’d loved this book in your library when you were a girl….”  
“And I told you I’d considered stealing it because I loved it so much,” she nodded, sniffing and stroking the book, tracing her fingertip across the title, ‘Horse of Air by Lucy Rees’ and inhaling the scent of a well loved book.

“It’s been out of print for decades…..you have no idea how hard it was to find a copy, but if you look inside the back cover…” he twitched his jaw slightly as she opened the cover and turned over the end papers.  
“Oh my God, Cormoran……,” and for the second time that evening her work partner looked supremely smug.   
The small, ‘Masham Lending Library’ stamp in reddy coloured ink was faded, but familiar.   
“Are you telling me this is the actual copy that was in the library when I was a little girl?…..oh God, I loved this book – it healed me Cormoran…..it healed me long after I’d first read it, when I needed to feel like I belonged in the world again and not be out of place….and you found it. Oh my God, how on earth could I love you more?”  
And she dropped the book to the bed momentarily to cup his cheeks in her palms and kiss his mouth with all the passion and love that she could manage.

Cormoran, stroked away her tears and sniffed himself….he had known she’d love it….the fact that the copy he’d found had been the one with the Masham Library stamp was a happy and wonderful coincidence which he’d only discovered once he’d flicked through it himself – Robin’s description of it in Barrow had been so full and vivid he’d been excited to read it himself…and he could completely understand why it had been almost therapy for her.  
“Happy birthday Robin….I’m glad you like it, and I’m so glad I was the one to get it for you,” and he tucked her hair behind her ear and dragged her slightly shivery body back to his warming, comforting bulk.

She allowed herself to just be there, pressed against him, feeling safer and happier than she had thought possible.  
“Come on….let’s get cosy,” he suggested, easing her away from him and chuckling again as she cradled her precious book and crawled up to slide under the cloud-like duvet.

She carefully placed the book on the cabinet and dropped Strike’s shirt onto the floor as she curled around him.   
He again went through the process of removing his leg and dragged off his underwear after Robin twanged the waistband impishly behind him.  
He pulled her against him, her back curving against his chest, her mouth licking and kissing his slightly salty arms.   
She felt him inhale deeply before murmuring, “By the way, did you just say you loved me when I gave you that book?”   
He nuzzled into her neck and hummed throatily as she wrinkled her nose and made a slight ‘squeeee’ sound.

“Yes….I did say that….because I do…I am totally and completely in love with you Cormoran Blue Strike….but it’s OK if you don’t feel like that….I’m just tired of covering up how I feel….don’t see the point anymore. I love you, there…said it!” she sighed and tugged his arms more tightly around herself.  
He dipped his head again, close to her ear, “I love you too, Robin,” he whispered…..and he did. 

Their bodies may have been saying it for months, but the fact that their lips could now join in made it perfect.


End file.
